Instantaneous
by chlorineobsession
Summary: [shikatema] Oneshots. Some fluff, some heartbreak, lots of Drama. Stories so far: -Monochrome -Out of Love -Wounds -Bottles -Spectrum -Smile Like You Mean It -Moments-Fortress. *Taking requests!*
1. Monochrome

A/N: I was feeling sad so I took out my anger in writing. Just a heads up: this ain't a happy sappy romance.

Monochrome

When she first held the kunai, she was shocked by how such a small thing could cause so much devastation.

The first time she practiced with the small knife-like weapon, it was on small straw doves which Baki threw in the air for her. She didn't miss once, but felt tears come to her eyes as the fragile objects fell to the ground, pierced by the weapons she'd thrown.

Her first live kill was a hare. Survival training, and emotional training. It had been an gift from Kankurō for her fourth birthday. She'd named the young hare Kumo, for he was white and fluffy. Her father, however, thought that her bond with this animal was naïve and childish. The then-six-year old cried for weeks on end after being forced to look at the life drain from her little cloud's eyes.

Her first human kill was when she was seven. A man, Chuunin probably, tried to attack her during an escort mission to Kumogakure - ironically.

She panicked and teared up after she noticed that she'd instinctively aimed for vital organs. She then saw that the man's hitai-ite held the symbol of her homeland. Of Suna.

Realising that the man had just tried to assassinate her, she found herself laughing, hysterically.

She stood over his broken corpse and stared down at him as hope vanished from the young man's face. Smirking the whole time.

She never cried again.

When she lost against some lazy brat at her Chuunin exams, she was shocked to discover that she did not hate him. In fact, she found herself respecting him.

Still, she felt she was weak for losing against a boy who was three years her junior.

When she was assigned to help the genius weeks later, she was filled with arrogance. This was her chance to prove that she was not as weak as he must have found her. Sure enough, she didn't miss her target, destroying her completely with her second move.

He smirked at her triumphant grin and they returned to Konoha.

He was a wreck. Twitching and fidgeting and inflicting pain on himself. The mere sight of his actions filled her with disgust. This boy had the audacity to call himself a Shinobi? And of Chuunin rank at that!

She called him out on it, berating him, but for some reason, she found herself speaking softly to him. She even reassured him (in a roundabout way) telling him that sacrifice was an inevitable part of any mission.

After their talk of sorts, he realised that she would insult him and think negatively of him, regardless of how he answered her questions. He got up to leave and she witnessed a harsh lecture from his dad. She knew that his dad treated him far better than her own did her, but she still found herself pitying the boy. He cried.

She broke a little inside, realising that he still had a heart that could shatter. She envied and pitied him, wondering what her life would be like if she allowed her emotions to rule her like the lazy boy did.

When she left the vibrant village with Gaara and Kankurō, she couldn't help but tease him for the tears he'd shed.

"Nara," she thought to herself. "What a strange kid,"

She ended up working closely with the Nara 'kid' afterwards. Being ambassador to Suna, and with him being her escort, she found herself taking a liking to the strange boy. Every once in awhile, he'd take her to watch the clouds with him. She hated it, and constantly gave out to him for it, shocked at herself for being so childish.

He eventually manipulate the reason out of her, and didn't mock her for being touchy about clouds.

After the war, she was shocked to discover that she wanted to make sure he was alright. He meant nothing to her, and the bloodshed hadn't scarred her enough to merit comforting. She passed by sobbing figures and frowned. Crying won't bring the dead back.

Deciding not to look for him, fearing what he'd think, she decided to do some target practice. The doves this time were not made of straw. She did not cry as their figures crumpled elegantly to her feet, dead.

She did not cry as she realised how empty she was.

She did not cry, because she couldn't.

She continued practicing. There was nothing left to shatter within her, so she settled for taking out her anger on birds of peace. Innocent little things.

When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she didn't flinch.

"That's no way to cope with your emotions, Temari,"

The Nara boy's eyes were filled with worry. She wanted to spit at his feet and give out to him for showing such an emotion, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead she shrugged,

"What emotions?"

"Shinobi are still human, Temari, we all have emotions," He smiled softly and took her hand, leading her towards the safety of the tents.

She smiled, secretly charmed by the kindness he was showing her. Feeling happy that he'd actually gone to look for her.

The two became good friends. She found herself falling for the boy who made her feel as though the glorious sun was something he'd built for her in his toolshed. The boy who taught her that happiness and love were things even she deserved. She found herself falling for the boy whom she knew loved her.

She continued her target practices, all victims were inanimate other than those she took on missions. He affected her in the strangest of ways.

Her monochrome sky became one full of colour and hope. Birds suddenly sang and the stars smiled at her. The clouds no longer scared her.

Life suddenly changed into something of great beauty.

But it disappeared as quickly as it came.

She should have stopped the moment she noticed the cracks in the universe he swore would never shatter. She should have warned him that the Sunan army was coming to Konoha. She never did make the right decisions though.

She never did miss a target.

When his file was placed on her desk, she simply sighed and started her strategy. Her pride was more important to her than something as silly as 'love'.

She never did miss a target.

The kunai shocked him. His death was quick. The only mercy she showed to the man she loved was to end it painlessly for him.

She didn't cry, but as she watched death take him away from the life he deserved, she felt the last human part of her wither and die with him.

He did not look into her eyes as he died. He looked to the clouds. The clouds he'd always longed to be.

When she married a wealthy man for the sake of her village, she insisted that their future child would be called Shikakumo. The world showed her no mercy for her sins however, and didn't bless her with a child, but she did not care. She wouldn't have loved it anyway.

She occasionally found herself staring up at the clouds which no longer held any beauty. Her eyes saw in monochrome.

She didn't cry.

She never cried.


	2. Out of Love

**A/N: Another sad one. Sorry, I'll post happy ones later.**

Out of Love

It wasn't out of love that he gave up on the fight.  
He said that he had run out of chakra.  
As if! He had obviously taken his chakra levels into account as he strategised.  
It wasn't out of love that he let her win.  
It was out of spite.

It wasn't out of love that she insisted that she be the one to help him.  
She wanted to show to him that she was strong. Stronger than him. She would prove it to him at all costs.  
It wasn't out of love that she rushed to his side to save him.  
It was out of spite.

It wasn't out of love that he insisted he should be chosen as her escort.  
He already had a lot of work to do anyways. He just thought that he'd be the best candidate, seeing as he was used to her short temper.  
It wasn't out of love that he convinced Tsunade to give him the role.  
It was out of convenience.

It wasn't out of love that she decided to be liaison to Konoha.  
She just knew the place fairly well, and understood the people of Konohagakure better than those from other countries.  
It wasn't out of love that she chose his homeland to travel to.  
It was out of convenience.

It wasn't out of love that he kissed her on one of their walks.  
He just thought that it would be interesting to see how she'd react in that kind of circumstance.  
It wasn't out of love that he gave in to his urges.  
It was out of curiosity.

It wasn't out of love that she invited him back to her apartment that same day.  
She just wanted to see if her strange feelings would go away after spending the night with him.  
It wasn't out of love that she wanted him.  
It was out of curiosity.

It wasn't out of love that he asked her to date him.  
She was troublesome after all, he just wanted to know what she would say.  
It wasn't out of love that he rejoiced when she said yes.  
It was out of joy.

It wasn't out of love that she blushed deeply when he proposed.  
They'd been dating for ages. Four years, to be precise. She was just shocked that the lazy boy (well, man) would take so much initiative.  
It wasn't out of love that she nodded slowly.  
It was out of joy.

It wasn't out of love that he said no.  
He didn't think she should go on such a dangerous mission. Especially when pregnant. He was worried just. You never know what could happen on missions.  
It wasn't out of love that he begged her to stay.  
It was out of concern.

It wasn't out of love that she cried after leaving.  
She needed to go though. Missions were as much a part of her as sand was a part of the desert. She missed wielding her Tessen. Summoning the forces of the wind. It was only an A rank mission anyway. Still... The look on his face...  
It wasn't out of love that she rushed into the mission, to get back to him as soon as she could.  
It was out of concern.

It wasn't out of love that he froze when he saw her messy blonde hair.  
He had been waiting weeks to see her again.  
It wasn't out of love that he cried when he laid eyes on her familiar face.  
It was out of grief.

It was out of love that she came back in a coffin rather than on her own two feet.  
She had been too desperate to get back to him.  
Too desperate.

It wasn't out of love that he broke down at her funeral.  
She was gone.  
Their child was gone.  
He must have misplaced his will to live, because he certainly didn't have any anymore.  
It wasn't out of love that he cried.  
It wasn't.  
It wasn't.  
It was.


	3. Wounds

**_A/N: A nicer one this time, I hope you enjoy. If you have any themes/requests, please let me know and I'll do my best to add them in._**

 ** _Naruto isn't mine. :(_**

 ** _Wounds_**

He winced in pain as her lithe fingers pulled down the material. The cut was deep enough to need proper medical treatment, but that wasn't an option right now.

"Don't worry, crybaby, you'll be fine." Temari said, her voice laced with worry.

"I know, woman, that doesn't mean I'm not in pain right now though,"  
She looked up at him with a scowl and then turned her attention back to the wound, muttering about his low pain tolerance.  
She pulled out a medical pack and extracted scissors from it.

The wound was about thirty centimetres long and it spread from his bicep all the way across to his shoulder blade.  
She cut away the material surrounding it so that she wouldn't pull on the wound and reopen it before cleaning it properly first.

"This will sting," she said, taking a bottle of vodka out from her own travel pack.

"W-wait, there's disinfectant in the medi- _AAH_!-"

Temari tipped the alcohol directly over the wound.

"That weak shit won't work, now hold still." She snapped.

He winced and clenched his eyes shut as she began dabbing at the wound with a vodka-soaked cloth-the cleanest she could find.

"Brace yourself,"

In one quick move, she tore the cloth from the wound and blood began to pool and bubble inside the gash. Shikamaru cried out and clenched his fists, urging himself not to cry.

"Done," she said, reassuringly, pressing the alcohol cloth directly to the wound, causing a burning sensation to course through Shikamaru's body as he winced again.

"Thanks"

He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"No problem. Now take this." She handed him the cloth.

It was coated in blood and stank of vodka. He knew exactly what she wanted him to do.  
He balled up the cloth and she took out a needle and thread from the medical kit as he gripped the cloth between his teeth, the alcohol calming his nerves ever so slightly.

It took her five minutes to stitch up the cut, though it felt like an eternity to Shikamaru, who thought he was going to pass out only ten seconds in.

Temari wiped up the blood that remained on his skin and bandaged the wound.

"We're done," she said, in as kind a tone as she could manage.

"Thank you,"

He turned so he was face to face with her and he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, taking her by surprise.  
His cut hurt from the action, but he ignored the pain.

"Don't thank me, lazy ass. I couldn't let you bleed out before we have a rematch now, could I?" She said, awkwardly brining her arms around him too.

They held each other for a few more moments before Temari pulled away and stood up, dusting off her legs as she did so.  
She held out her hand to him.

"Let's have a second round,"

Shikamaru groaned, apparently being nice to her wouldn't make her lay off the sparring.

"Do we have to?"

"Yes," the blonde snapped.

"But I'm injured!"

"Do you think the enemy would care that you're injured?"

The shadow ninja sighed and got to his feet.

The things he did for love...


	4. Bottles

She would sit at the bar, her head slumped slightly into the palm of her open hand.

Those near her would say that she'd had enough.

"She's had enough."

The bartender would insist that she call someone to pick her up.

"Can I help you?"

She'd refused.

And then she'd see him. The man she'd been looking for.

"Hey,"

She'd say when she took a seat next to him.

His gaze would turn to her and his eyes widen slightly as they met hers.

"T-Tem, hi,"

She would smile and laugh and tease him.

She would take him home, smiling deviously over her shoulder at him as she led the way.

She would open the door and lock it once they both clumsily stumbled inside, laughing awkwardly.

"Shikamaru..." She'd mumble against his lips as he kissed her gently.

He'd pull back and frown, but say nothing in return.

He'd reassure her as he led her to the bedroom that he loves her. He always has.

"I love you..."

And it wouldn't be until the next morning that she'd realise that the bottles lied.

The alcohol had lied to her, and it wasn't Shikamaru who lay in bed next to her, but another man.

A man whom she knew loved her, but she didn't care for him in the least, so she'd wake him up and promise to call him back, but burn his number the moment he left.

He wasn't the one.

The man she woke up next to never was The One.

So the next night she'd try once more.

The next drink will bring him back.

But he's still dead when she's done with the bottle.


	5. Spectrum

_**A/N: Hey, so it's been a kfhjillion years since I've posted here, sorry!**_

 _ **I've been working on a request from mrdbznarutofan. **_

_**I'm not sure if I like it or bot? It got a lot more existential than I'd planned and it gets a bit confusing too, but I kind of meant for it to be like that. Makes sense?**_

 _ **Please let me know what you think, and send requests!**_

 _ **Spectrum**_

The swirling colours wrapped their arms around her and gently held her in place. She sank into their depths.

They were... Comforting.

Golds and yellows jumped out at her.

She'd always liked yellow.

Yellow was the sun, it was saffron.

It was home.

It was joy.

Yellow was the colour of joy.

§

They needed a volunteer.

"Temari, I dare you!"

She shrugged and raised her hand.

"Why not?"

§

The sensation reminded her of quicksand.

The colours pulled her down deeper. Deeper.

She'd always liked the colour red. It stood out from the crowd.

It was rubies, it was paprika.

It was blood.

It was love.

Red was the colour of love.

§

It was a pocket watch.

What harm could a pocket watch possibly do as it swung like a pendulum?

Oh the wonders of gravity.

Left, right, left, right.

 _Tic, toc, tic, toc._

 _Tic, toc._

 _Tic_

 _To-_

§

The colours held her tightly. Close to them. Close to existence.

If she strayed from the colours, she'd die.

Maybe.

Green swam in front of her.

She'd always been told her eyes were green, though some people said they were more teal than anything else.

She never cared.

Green never meant much to her other than the fact that green was Konoha.

Green was leaves, green was life.

Green was his jacket.

Green was hope.

Green was the colour of hope.

§

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"Tem, are you sure?"

"Shikamaru, I'm telling you. I'm fine."

§

She was drowning in the colours.

She never liked swimming, she hadn't learned how to before she was ten, and she wasn't very good at it.

Her fears first arose when she noticed the blue, cascading towards her like a wave of mercury.

Slow and deliberate. Threatening.

Blue was water and the endless sky.

Blue was the horizon at noon.

Blue was fear.

Blue was the colour of her fears.

§

"You can talk to me you know."

"I don't need to talk to you, okay? I'm fine!"

"Temari... You keep on zoning out... You seem... On edge."

"I SAID, I'M. FINE!"

§

Their grip tightened, they laughed as she struggled against them, pitiless.

Purple only offered her some comfort as it merged with the other colours.

Purple was hydrangeas and bruises.

Purple was the sky at sunset.

Purple was childhood.

Purple was the colour of her memories.

§

"Please just listen!"

"NO!"

"Tem..."

"I DON'T NEED HELP!"

"TEMARI, PLEASE!"

"GO AWAY, NARA."

" I want to help you!"

"I don't care!"

"Please, I love you, I want to help you."

"Go find someone who loves you back."

§

She'd never liked orange, and the grip of the colours was now constricting.

Orange screamed at her, taking over the purple and swirling into her line of sight.

Orange was fire and sunrise over the desert.

Orange was citrus.

Orange was the day she left him.

Orange was the colour of regret.

§

She left the room.

The apartment.

The village.

She didn't go back for him.

He didn't come look for her.

§

Brown.

She used to hate that colour before she met him... Before she lost him.

And then his eyes meant something to her.

Brown was him, the chocolates he gave her.

Brown was the earth beneath her feet.

Brown was the days he didn't beg her to come back.

Brown was the colour of depression.

§

She locked the door behind her.

She made sure it was locked.

She checked once more.

Okay. It was definitely locked.

But just in case...

One can never be too sure...

Humans terrified her.

§

She knew there was a problem when the next colour showed up.

It was a blinding white.

Could white even be considered a colour?

What did it matter, at least she wasn't alone with brown or orange. She'd never liked them.

White was different.

White was snow on the ground, orchids in bloom.

White was the wedding she'd dreamed of as a little girl. As a human.

White was who she once was.

White was the colour of her surrender to the colours.

§

"Tem?"

"Go away, Kankurō."

"Just brining you some food."

"Leave it outside the door."

"Temar-"

"Thanks."

§

Beige was so plain.

There was nothing exciting about it. It wasn't even scary.

Beige was bread, pale wood.

Beige wrists between red scars.

Beige was emptiness.

Beige was the colour of her days alone in the room.

§

"She needs help."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

"Ssh,"

"What?"

"She'll hear us..."

"So what?"

§

Pink swallowed at the colours.

She hated pink. It was feminine. Immature.

Pink was flowers and make-up.

Pink was whispers of daylight in the morning.

Pink was the lies she told herself as a child.

Pink was the colour of deceit.

§

"Temari."

"..."

"Tem."

"..."

" I'm going to find help."

"..."

§

Grey.

She saw no colour, only monotone grey.

She needed help and she knew it.

She was at the end of... Of what? Life? Patience?

...

Time?

Grey was cold steel and slates on frosty mornings.

Grey was stormy skies.

Grey was stories she never told anyone.

Grey was the colour that she had become.

§

"Temari? Where are you?"

...

"I have something for you!"

...

"Tem, open the door."

...

"OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!"

§

Black.

Was it too late?

Not that it mattered.

She would have screamed, but she was all out of breath.

Pity, there were so many words left unsaid.

Why was there water around her?

She couldn't see through the darkness.

Black was onyx and starless nights.

Black was charred wood.

Black was her soul.

Black was the colour of her dreams.

§

"Temari..."

It wasn't Kankurō.

"Tem..."

Nor was it Gaara.

That left only one person.

§

The darkness cleared.

Then there was him.

Nara.

His dark eyes and pale skin.

Colourless and monochrome but as vibrant as a rainbow.

He was there like a ray of light through broken shutters, anchoring her to reality.

He was Nara.

The colour of fresh sheets and cloud gazing on a Thursday.

He was kindness and serenity in a nutshell.

He was an atlas. A compass.

He was the reason for her being.

§

 _-c_

 _Tic_

 _Toc, tic._

 _Toc, tic, Toc, tic._

 _§_

"Temari, I dare you!"

"Nah, I'm good."

§


	6. Smile Like You Mean It

**_A/N: Just a lil something I whipped up whilst I should have been studying, oops. I was listening to some awesome music and took inspiration for the title from "Smile like you mean it" by the Killers. I love them._**

 ** _I posted this as a separate one shot, but I wanted to add it to this collection for the fun of it._**

 ** _I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it._**

 ** _Please fave/review, enjoy and also, Naruto isn't mine._**

 ** _I'm not sure if I should make it a two-shot later?_**

Smile Like You Mean It

It was quite simple really. There was nothing too complicated about it at all.

Nothing.

But for some reason, he found himself wondering how on earth this was possible.

How was it possible that this woman-no, this _deity_ \- was lying next to him.

He had been watching her for a long time. Not in a creepy stalker way, but in an observant way. He noticed her small habits. Her quirks.

He noticed how when she smiled, the right corner of her mouth tugged up a tiny bit more than her left. How she would always swivel her drink in her glass before drinking it, and how she always blew on her hands before leaving her house, regardless of how hot it was.

He liked her little quirks, and he told her that, but that still didn't explain why her eyes were fixed on his as she remained on her side. He swore she was smiling lightly at him. He could only stare.

He had asked her out once, and actually been surprised when she'd said yes. Of course he was surprised. He knew what she was like.

But she'd said yes. And that was what mattered.

They had never been very open about their relationship, they didn't officially tell their friends until they'd been together for a few months, and that suited both of them fine.

Neither of them saw Temari's lineage as an obstacle, there was no need to.

They got on well with each other, it was that simple.

As was his current situation, yet he was still completely mind-blown that Sabaku no Temari was on the ground before him, only a little distance away.

He had been lying there peacefully, waiting and waiting for what never came, and what did come was a lying-down-Temari.

It was baffling.

Granted, this wasn't the first time he'd been this close to her, and certainly not the first time he laid down next to her, certainly not.

He'd taken her back to his apartment one of the days, one where she wasn't drunk, and he was mildly (and pleasantly) surprised that this sober-Temari was actually allowing him to hold her and lead the way to his bedroom and-well, one thing led to another, and no one was complaining the next day, that was for sure.

But Nara Shikamaru still couldn't wrap his head around this one, very simple problem.

Why did Sabaku no Temari, the desert princess, the desert tempest, the troublesome woman and the object of his daydreams, why did she do that?

Her smile-yes, she was definitely smiling- didn't waver as he propped himself up on one elbow, taking in the scene.

Everything was beautiful; the trees, the sunlight that was shattered by branches to form a glowing mosaic on her figure, her teal eyes. Even the red was beautiful. The crimson red blood that seeped from her side as she lay there, smiling triumphantly at his confused face while he pondered over the question 'why'.

Why did Temari take the hit?

He was simply lying there, waiting for the final blow. He was out of chakra, and he couldn't move his legs. To top it all off, he had six broken fingers.

He thought that Temari was further back with the rest of the squad, he had gone ahead to scout and hadn't been subtle enough.

"Crybaby, you're welcome."

He wondered why she had used that old nickname. He hadn't heard it in years.

That's when he realised he was crying.

"Don't worry, I took him out, he just had an explosive tag on him. I'll be fine."

The scene before him begged to differ, her blood was spreading around her like wildfire, her eyelids were drooping. Even her thousand-watt smile was dim. She was fading.

She was bleeding out.

Using his elbows, he dragged himself over to her and pressed a hand to her waist where the blood was seeping out at an alarming rate.

"Yeah," his voice cracked in his throat, as though reflecting his heart that was shattering in his chest. "You'll be fine."

She smiled pitifully at him but winced as he applied more pressure to her wound in a desperate attempt to ease the bleeding.

A desperate attempt which he made in vain.

"You'll be alright, Tem. I swear."

She opened her mouth to say something, but the only sound that came out was a choking noise before blood oozed from her mouth.

"You'll be alright." He repeated, reassuring himself more than her.

She nodded.

"You'll be a-alright Tem, you'll be fine, you'll be fine, you'll be fine." He was gasping now, and the material of her vest was so saturated in her blood that it was dark and the folds clung to her almost like a swimsuit.

"You'll be fine!" He was choking and spluttering and he hardly took any notice in her closing eyes.

"You'll be fine."

"Guys! We found them!"

A group of five crashed into the clearing where he lay, his hand still on her waist, his mouth still repeating the words.

"You'll be fine."

A girl with pink hair stepped forward hurriedly and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let me take a look."

"She's fine." His crazed eyes met her worried ones and he moved his hands away from her blood-soaked side and let the medical ninja take over.

"She'll be fine." He repeated looking at the other people who had gathered around them.

Kiba, Chouji, and Ino gave him reassuring looks while Sai looked at him blankly.

"I've sealed her wound, she's lost a worrying amount of blood though, we need to get her to a hospital now!"

With Chouji carrying Temari, they made their way back to Konoha.

The only thought that kept him afloat was her voice saying.

"I'll be fine."

O

He remembered the first time they'd fought together. As a team.

How she defeated the opponent in just a few simple moves.

And then the smile.

How to describe how that smile made him feel...

He couldn't find the words, he knew it would be easier just to lie. It would be easier to steal from a hundred stories and explain in words so familiar to you that you would swallow it whole.

He could say his knees went weak, his breath caught in his chest. But that wouldn't be true. His heart didn't speed up or stop or even stutter. That's the sort of foolish thing that happens in stories...

How to explain that smile?

It's like if you were to go out in the early days of winter, after the first freeze of the season. Go out and find a pool of water with a thin sheet of ice across the top of it, clear and cold, and take a step on it.

Near the edges it will hold you. But slide out farther. Farther. There is a place where the ice will just barely hold your weight. That's what the smile did to him. That's what it made him feel. The ice splinters below your feet and reaches out from where you stand like elaborate spider webs.

Silent but powerful.

Shikamaru did not feel as though he were standing on brittle ice about to give way beneath him, no. He felt like the ice itself. Suddenly shattered, with cracks spiralling out from where she'd touched his heart. The only reason he held together was because his thousand pieces were all leaning together. He feared that if he moved, he'd fall apart.

So he simply stared at her for a moment as he gathered his thoughts and found himself smiling at her mere seconds later.

O

He was at her bedside holding her hand when it hit him.

He may never see that smile again.


	7. Moments

_**Moments**_

It was moments like that which they treasured the most.

They were broken, him and her both.

Broken like a million shards of glass.

Unfixable.

But those moments made them forget.

Forget the things they'd seen.

The things they'd done.

Almost like magic.

And they knew that it wouldn't fix them. It wouldn't save them. They savoured it anyway.

It was blissful really, to wake up and see that they were wrapped in someone else's arms-someone who wouldn't shy away from them for the horrors they'd done- because they were in the same boat.

Him and her.

A light breath whispering over flesh, lips brushing.

Nothing more, nothing less.

They needed no more to remind them that yes, they were human and yes, they felt pain and of course, whoever woke up first had to leave quickly before the other did.

A cyclical routine of yes.

But there was always the downside to their thoughts. No, they can't stay, no, forever is impossible.

Not in this life, not in any.

But as he woke up first, glancing down to see that she was still there, nestled safely in his arms, her kimono crinkled from sleeping in it, he did what he'd never done before.

He simply stayed, held her tighter, and smiled.

A small, gentle, real smile.

It had been a long time since he'd let that happen.

He constantly felt as though he were caught in a web. Lies, deceit. Death.

She was his salvation, and though he knew she wouldn't be there forever, he still made the most of her presence while it lasted, and pretended to still be asleep.

As she woke up, stirring gently from what was probably the first good night's sleep she'd had in a while, he felt her heart instantly kick into defense mode, before relaxing into his embrace for a second or two.

And as always, she made to get up.

She wiggled out of his grasp and straightened out her clothes before giving him a long steady look.

"Goodbye," she whispered quietly so as not to wake him up.

It was his chance and he knew it, but he waited until the door clicked quietly shut behind her that he breathed the words "I love you" to the empty void of the hotel room.

And so the waiting began again, and he woke and left, paying half the bill before looking to the clouds which had lost their touch of magic and sighed.

Longing for those moments which were worth a dozen life times in his dreary days.

But for her, he could wait for ever.

She was worth every moment of misery.

 _ **A/N~Just another lil dreary one, please let me know whatcha think. Thanks for reading :)**_


	8. Fortress

**Fortress**

When she was younger, she would hide herself behind walls and doors.

Her room was her temple, and she'd be kept safe. Behind walls. Doors.

She would conceal the cracks in her armour behind a glare, _don't let them see any weakness._

If they saw the weaknesses, they would crawl under her skin, beneath her flesh and nestle there, like parasites- feeding off of her sanity.

She couldn't afford to lose any more sanity, her life was dysfunctional enough as it was, so she hid.

Behind walls, doors.

The cracks in her armour grew as she aged, as though stretched with time.

Terrified, she hid them.

A fiercer glare, a stronger punch.

Don't let them close, if they got close, they would see the weaknesses and they would see the fears, they would see… _her_.

And that terrified her.

And so, she kept her distance.

She didn't need to get close to people, she knew that she wouldn't be loved, so she saw no reason to try.

She'd rather break skin and bones than her heart.

So she hid, behind walls. Doors.

A fortress of stones and frowns.

She grew up believing that no one would ever fall in love with her, that no one would ever think of her before falling asleep.

That no one would ever make her feel as though the world was only worth being lived in if she were there for them.

And so she emptied herself, so she would feel nothing.

It hurt less than scars and broken bones.

Behind her armour, she let herself drown. Slowly, so that no one saw.

She'd lock her bedroom door so that the others didn't see.

Her uphills were mountains and her downhills were cliffs.

She was unstable, the hydrogen atom amongst the noble gasses of neon, argon.

But she hid it well.

Behind walls. Doors.

And then _he_ happened.

And somehow, at some point, he pulled her out.

Out of the armour she'd built for herself.

He tore down her battlements and glares and punches.

Just by existing.

And it terrified her beyond explanation.

Words weren't enough to describe the fear that she experienced when she found herself willing to let him see behind the armour, beyond the walls. The doors.

And she realised that the cracks in her armour, though they were her weaknesses, they were also what let him in.

He saw the real her.

Everything, _everything_ changed on the night were she fell asleep and she wasn't alone. An arm around her.

The fears didn't hurt her that night.

The monsters didn't slide from her closet and engulf her thoughts, replacing them with darkness and terror.

She wasn't alone in the fortress.

Though she still thought: what if?

What if he tore down her defence system which she had carefully built, brick by brick, stone by stone?

Day after wretched day she thought: what if?

But he didn't.

He made her reassess what she'd made herself believe.

He told her, with carefully painted words that he fell in love.

With _her_.

That she (yes, _she_ ,) was beautiful.

And her armour crumbled, link by link, until it pooled around her on the ground, leaving only herself, exposed and defenceless, but smiling for one of the first times in the entirety of her existence.

She marvelled in the lightness of her skin, the world weighed less when the armour didn't cling to her and constrict her joy.

Her brothers saw the change, he saw the change.

All that was left to do was to unlock the door and step outside without her armour.

She could do it. She knew she could, because he told her every day:

He was with her, she wasn't alone.

She didn't have to hide behind the walls anymore.

They were just stone, she was the strength behind them. She was the force who built them.

Diamonds were only carbon. She as so much more.

And though he was no great hero, he wore no cape, he saved her from herself.

So slowly, with him by her side, she turned the lock and looked at the outside world.

She was stardust, water, a brain, a heart.

And she had him.

It was time to leave the fortress behind.

* * *

 _ **Heyy, idk if I'm gonna keep these oneshots going, there hasn't been a huge amount of feedback on them, so this might be the last one.**_

 _ **Thanks to everyone who did support this!**_

 _ **~Lee :)**_


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